Kiss Kiss Bang Bang: Secrets of the Trade (Harry/Perry | M | 400w)
[ Harry/Perry | M | 400w | 2007-05-14 ]
Perry is very good at winning.
Author’s Note: theswearingkind once mentioned she’d kill to see some slash about these two, and as my TSK desires, my TSK gets.
Secrets of the Trade
“Perry.”
He continued about his merry business of sucking Harry’s dick without so much as batting a pretty gay eyelash.
“Perry.”
And then he did that thing people do when they press together their index finger and thumb and slash it quickly through the air, usually accompanied by some kind of dismissive hissing sound. Perry made the hissing noise on Harry’s dick and he almost forgot what he was going to say-
No. He definitely had forgotten what he was going to say.
“Damnit, Perry, that’s not playing fair and you know it.”
Perry, on the upstroke, tilted his head just enough so Harry could see him roll his eyes. It was a little fucking scary, seeing a guy with his mouth wrapped around the head of your dick-granted, that was a sight in and of itself, but besides the point, although the original point by now has been lost in the annals of Harry’s incredibly spotty and voiced-over memory-wait, what were we talking about?
Perry’s tongue quickly reminded him. Right, so seeing the guy who’s got your family jewels uncomfortably close to his teeth have his eyes roll back in his head is scary. And not the “this movie must have used up ninety-percent of its budget on ketchup (cheap ketchup, at that)” way. Truly scary. Because Perry could never fucking do things halfway. No, he had to roll his eyes all the way, and look really freaky while doing it.
“Perrrrrrrrry.”
But this time Harry saying his name was less of a “hey, talk, me you, now,” and more of a “shit, I might have just popped a blood vessel in my forehead from how good that felt.” Perry, asshole that he was, knew this, and did something even better-“bitch,” Harry muttered as his hands pressed so hard against the surface of the desk that the blood drained from them-smiling all the while.
The asshole part has been mentioned, yes?
“Perr-”
The last pseudo-syllable was lost in a gurgling noise that, were it compared side-by-side with the mating call of a Yak, would have been completely indistinguishable.
Perry, in his smug conniving homosexual way, licked his lips.
He slapped Harry on the cheek, trying to rouse him from his blissfully gelatinous state. He almost looked sorry for the poor bastard.
“That, you strangely well-endowed pain in my ass, is how you fucking win an argument.”
Perry is very good at winning.
Author’s Note: theswearingkind once mentioned she’d kill to see some slash about these two, and as my TSK desires, my TSK gets.
Secrets of the Trade
“Perry.”
He continued about his merry business of sucking Harry’s dick without so much as batting a pretty gay eyelash.
“Perry.”
And then he did that thing people do when they press together their index finger and thumb and slash it quickly through the air, usually accompanied by some kind of dismissive hissing sound. Perry made the hissing noise on Harry’s dick and he almost forgot what he was going to say-
No. He definitely had forgotten what he was going to say.
“Damnit, Perry, that’s not playing fair and you know it.”
Perry, on the upstroke, tilted his head just enough so Harry could see him roll his eyes. It was a little fucking scary, seeing a guy with his mouth wrapped around the head of your dick-granted, that was a sight in and of itself, but besides the point, although the original point by now has been lost in the annals of Harry’s incredibly spotty and voiced-over memory-wait, what were we talking about?
Perry’s tongue quickly reminded him. Right, so seeing the guy who’s got your family jewels uncomfortably close to his teeth have his eyes roll back in his head is scary. And not the “this movie must have used up ninety-percent of its budget on ketchup (cheap ketchup, at that)” way. Truly scary. Because Perry could never fucking do things halfway. No, he had to roll his eyes all the way, and look really freaky while doing it.
“Perrrrrrrrry.”
But this time Harry saying his name was less of a “hey, talk, me you, now,” and more of a “shit, I might have just popped a blood vessel in my forehead from how good that felt.” Perry, asshole that he was, knew this, and did something even better-“bitch,” Harry muttered as his hands pressed so hard against the surface of the desk that the blood drained from them-smiling all the while.
The asshole part has been mentioned, yes?
“Perr-”
The last pseudo-syllable was lost in a gurgling noise that, were it compared side-by-side with the mating call of a Yak, would have been completely indistinguishable.
Perry, in his smug conniving homosexual way, licked his lips.
He slapped Harry on the cheek, trying to rouse him from his blissfully gelatinous state. He almost looked sorry for the poor bastard.
“That, you strangely well-endowed pain in my ass, is how you fucking win an argument.”